


Frigid

by lunick



Category: Ookiku Furikabutte | Big Windup!
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-05-23
Updated: 2013-05-23
Packaged: 2017-12-16 03:07:59
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 542
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/857061
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/lunick/pseuds/lunick
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Rooms are always so warm until everyone leaves.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Frigid

It’s interesting how fast a room can go cold as everyone leaves.

As people file out, the door is left hanging open, and a draft sweeps in, filling every crevice with a chill that goes down right to through the floorboards. Even as the steam from the showers rises up and makes everything damp and the air heavy, Hanai can feel the cold settle in as he’s the last one left in the locker room.

He’s always the last to shower, the last to dress, the last to leave. He has a lot of work to do, or maybe a lot on his mind, and he moves slowly in dressing and in actually getting home. His teammates poke fun, asking him what he even does in the locker room alone, what takes him so long in the shower.

His days are so busy, they’re filled from dawn until dusk with people to interact with and things to do and places to go — Momokan, Abe, homework, school, practice, Tajima, his family — and maybe it just wears him out. He appreciates the quiet tapping of his own feet against the cold cement, the creaking of the bench as he puts his foot on it to tie his shoes, the clicking when he shuts his lock on his locker. It gives him time to think about things that aren’t baseball or school, for once, and a time when he doesn’t have to voice his thoughts for all to hear.

“Hey.”

He jumps, startled by the voice, and he turns. “Tajima,” he says, his voice barely more than a surprised breath. He’s not sure what he’s more surprised about: the fact that he was there, or the way his voice sounded, so much more quiet and subdued than he’s used to. “What’re you…”

“Came back to check on you.” A slight, crooked smile tugs at Tajima’s lips, making his nose crinkle up. “Make sure you weren’t doing anything weird.”

“Oh.”

A quiet chill falls over the two boys, and Hanai’s face flushes slightly. He adjusts his book bag on his shoulder.

“Actually,” the clean up’s voice starts to gain momentum, and he’s almost talking like normal now, with the way it bounces off the walls, “I came to give you something!”

“Oh?”

“Yeah, but you gotta come over here to get it.” Tajima jabs his finger towards the floor through the air. The captain raises his eyebrows, pressing his lips into a tight line, but he walks over nonetheless.

“Okay, what is it, Tajima—”

He barely has time to finish his question before his teammate grabs him by the collar and pulls him down, pushing their lips together in a kiss that seems to drag on and on until Hanai regains his wits and manages to shove the smaller boy away. “Get off—”

“Why?” There’s no malice, no smug kind of smirk in Tajima’s voice. Just genuine confusion, and maybe a little bit of hurt. Had Hanai been sending him signals? Did Tajima think—

“I like Momokan.”

There’s a heavy moment of silence that sweeps out even the chill, and suddenly number nine’s body feels warm all over, and there’s a tightness in his throat and the pit of his stomach that makes him uncomfortable.

“Oh.”


End file.
